Thursday, 1 November 2007

A few days after what, for me, had been the cataclysmic revelation of the farewell kiss, he suddenly appeared on Windows Messenger asking to be allowed to contact me. So, obviously, I accepted. There was no mention of our goodbye, just general chat about the event.

Over the next few weeks, we had several fun conversations where we found out more about each other. He was in the final stages of his PhD and had finished a serious relationship six months earlier. I hinted at my unhappiness in my marriage. There was flirting and the sharing of confidences but, although we had several very long conversations, mostly he seemed to be rushing off because he needed to get his work finished.

After a few weeks of this, his time at Uni was finished and, as he had no internet access at home, our method of communication was gone. To be honest I was left with the impression that he wasn't particularly interested.

A couple of months later, he was organising an event in his home town. It was a big two-day thing with a fun evening for the participants planned for the Saturday night. Even if I hadn't had designs on his person, it was a must-do seminar because so many other friends would be attending. J (my best mate) and I were going up on the Friday and spending the whole weekend at a hotel. Sadly, a week or so before the event, something happened which turned it into a one-day session only. J and I decided that we would go up on the Saturday afternoon and stay that night so that we were fresh for the early start on Sunday morning.

Since I knew Ruf ran a class on Saturday, I found his mobile number on his website and texted him to ask about class times to see if we could get there in time to train. Unfortunately, the timings didn't coincide so it was impossible but Ruf texted me to say that he would take us out for dinner on the Saturday night so that we didn't feel as if we had been abandoned in the big City. After some discussion, it was decided that we would go to his favourite vegan restaurant after the football.

On the day itself, he called me at half-time at the football to check on our progress up the motorways. Most peculiar, because I knew how important his footie was and stopping to make phone calls in the interval would not have been normal behaviour. I felt quite honoured but I didn't know whether I was reading more into it than was there.

The meal itself was fun. The food was a little strange to us carnivores - vegan sausages and a vegan Thai curry for J - but very pleasant. Then we went back to our hotel's bar for drinks. I was wearing a low cut v-necked top with a push up bra and I was hoping he would notice my cleavage. He seemed to be doing anything he could not to be caught looking in that area. We talked and talked; things just seemed to be clicking between us. J was very quiet. She knew I liked this guy and she was doing a very good impression of a gooseberry :)

The seminar went very well and a group of us went out for curry afterwards before making our separate return journeys. On the way home, we heard on the radio that there had been some rioting in a part of the City and some big fires. I had had all sorts of texts on my phone enquiring after my safety as it had made the BBC News.

Later, I sent him a text thanking him for looking after us with a throw away comment to the effect of 'we had been having fun whilst ******* burned'.

He responded with '******* is where I lost my virginity. But I'm not sure you needed to know that'.

Naturally I responded, asking for further details with regard to age, performance, etc., which he gave with the assurance that, of course, he was very good :)

And so it began...

We conversed smuttily by text from time to time over the next ten days, but it was the day of the Hallowe'en Party that things really began to kick off.

I sent him pics of my Black Widow Spider outfit - a leather basque and trousers with lacy accoutrements. He seemed to enjoy them and requested further updates. Later, at the party, there was a lot of high spirits and spanking. Someone gave me their whip and I was in my element. More photos for him to peruse.

Eventually, back at home at 2am, very definitely the worse for wear from over-indulgence in brandy, I texted him that I really needed someone with stamina and experience who could take control and play me. He replied by assuring me that he could find us some fun games to play that would involve both those qualities which he possessed in buckets. But it was my request that he make me 'sing' which really got to him. I was all dressed up for fun but had no one to share it with. He understood what I meant completely and his reply that my words had made him hard brought the realisation that there was 'something' to be pursued.

The following morning, he was texting to ask after my hangover - I'd had worse! And the excitement of his continued interest made me quite forget my fuzzy head, despite the fact that it was Monday and so I'd had to be up early to get the kids to school. He admitted that my directness had made him blush but that he had loved the whole Carry On sauciness of my banter.

I proceeded to ask for an expanded clarification of his declared stamina and experience. It became like a job interview and we treated his application for my position's vacancy accordingly, discussing his previous employers - there were about 30 of them and, no, he couldn't remember all their names. But he did hasten to stress the numbers showed that he had researched extensively, providing him with a broad base of transferrable skills. He was, after all, 38 years old and had had a very drunken and wayward youth, but he insisted that the best sex is when you put the effort in and get to practice with one person. I think he quite liked that I could only really claim to have had sex with two people and those separately, so there was no history of rampant threesomes to confide.

As it was a Monday I was busily engaged in household chores and didn't hear my mobile when he tried to ring me that afternoon; there was no answer when I tried to return the call. It was Hallowe'en and there were lots of distractions for the rest of the evening with the road's children in various stages of fancy dress to be provided with treats so I thought nothing more of it.

But the next day saw the first phone exchange of the many that would follow. It was 1st November and I was driving back from a private lesson given by a very attractive young man who had been helping me with my martial arts training.

When the phone rang, I was arriving in Sainsburys' car park where I was supposed to be doing some shopping prior to picking the kids up from school, but we just got onto the subject of sex and it went from there with no time to go round the supermarket. We discussed my problems with Rabbits and their tendency to discombobulate, my infidelity when I had kissed Bear, as well as his love of sucking come - both female and his own - and some of his previous liaisons. None of this in a flirty or salacious way, just the facts as they pertained to us. It was the day we both really acknowledged that 'something' was happening.

We talked about those few months of semi-flirtation online. He told me that he had been interested but reserved at first because he wasn't sure what I wanted. He kept thinking that I was flirting with him but he knew I was married so he thought that's all it was. He'd enjoyed the attention of the kiss but he just put it down to me being a friendly Essex girl and nothing more... because he knew I was married. He also revealed that, at that time, he had been at the tail end of a cyber relationship that had crossed over into reality for a while but had finished a week or so before the seminar.

And so the days of drudgery passed, punctuated by the excitement of my interaction with a man who was 200 miles away. To my delight, he would ring me up unexpectedly - when I was out shopping or doing housework. I cannot begin to describe how much I loved his calls, his texts, his attentions.

He commented several times upon the differences in our lives and lifestyles. He called me Lady Chatterley and said that he was my bit of rough. Of course in textspeak that translated to Ruf and so his nickname was born.

He started to send me dirtier messages about what he would like to do to me, the first formulations of a fantasy he was concocting and telling me how horny he found my replies informing him of my masturbatory needs as a result of his writing. He got me worked up into such a state, all day, every day for a couple of weeks, culminating in me texting him:

Im so wet n all i want 2 do is sit on ur cock x

'Something' had just became more pressing and filthy texts or calls whilst I was shopping were no longer going to be enough to satisfy our needs...

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